


Kiss the Girl

by oceanofdarkness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 20:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanofdarkness/pseuds/oceanofdarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle discovers a mermaid's diary in Rumplestiltskin's tower and her curiosity gets the better of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss the Girl

**Author's Note:**

> This a response to a prompt - Belle read a book in the castle that describes a holiday for romance; she brings it up to Rumple and he decides to try and make it the perfect day for her - inspired by the lovely drawing by luludrawsouat.

“Why do you have a mermaid’s diary?”

“Hmmm?” He looks up to find her waving a book under his nose. It is a strange and elaborate thing… pages of dried seaweed with a piano hinge binding crafted from thin sticks of coral. He reaches out to pluck the volume from her hand with an exasperated sigh. “How many times do I have to tell you that the books in my tower can be dangerous?”

“Oh… well yes,” she begins, and at least she has the grace to look contrite. “But this one was so beautiful, and I’ve never seen a binding quite like it. I was just going to have a quick look at its construction, but then it fell open and…” Suddenly her gaze snaps up to his, hands landing on her hips. “You still haven’t answered my question!”

Only his little caretaker could be caught snooping where she shouldn’t have been and turn it around so that she is somehow scolding her master for not answering questions she has no business asking to begin with. Well, he won’t let her get away with it… except there’s a gleam in those lovely blue eyes of hers as she stares at him, and he loses track of the conversation for a moment. No harm in answering her really.

“It was downpayment on a deal,” he tells her and watches as her brow furrows.

“But don’t you usually deal for more precious items than this?” she asks. “What value could a young girl’s diary hold for you?”

“Squid ink is a valuable commodity,” he explains, “and quite difficult to obtain. This was the only sample available at the time.”

“So this is written in squid ink?”

“Yes.”

“So it’s not the diary itself that holds value?”

“Not as a literary work,” he sneers, “no.”

“But reading it isn’t dangerous?”

“No,” he concedes, “but you didn’t know that when you decided to ignore my warnings.”

“Well they really weren’t necessary in this case, were they?”

"That’s hardly the point…" he begins, but allows the words to trail off and stares at her as she grins and snatches the slender volume from his hand while he waves it about.

“I wasn’t finished with it yet,” she explains sheepishly. Belle clutches the thing to her chest and smiles up at him from under her lashes, coy and coaxing. “Surely, you don’t mind since it’s not dangerous and the story itself holds no value?”

He should refuse her on principle, but his little caretaker does not play fair… besides, he has no wish to examine why he finds it difficult to refuse her anything, least of all a trifle such as this. He waves his now empty hand in a careless gesture and tries to sound bored as he mutters, “No matter.”

“Thank you,” she beams. “I’ll put it back in the morning, I promise. You won’t even have time to miss it.”

“Be sure that you do…” he waggles a finger at her, “and no more exploring in my tower.”

—————————————-

“Your squid ink is back in your tower,” she announces as she pours his tea.

“And did you find your little mermaid’s tale as riveting as you’d expected?” he enquires in his lilting tone.

“It was cut short.” Disappointment is plain in her voice, but then her tone grows wistful. “Up until then it was very romantic actually.” She eyes him with an accusing stare and he can’t quite keep the edge out of his voice when he speaks.

“Missing all of those handsome suitors, Dearie?”

She rolls her eyes. “I never really had any of those.” She leans into him with a conspiratorial whisper. “The people in my village always thought me a bit too odd. Papa had to go looking for Gaston, and he was more interested in our lands than in me.”

Rumplestiltskin mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like ‘dimwitted buffoon’ and turns the conversation back to the diary.

“And what did you learn of the affairs of merfolk then?”

“Surely, you know the story as well as I do.” That accusatory stare is back and now there is a decided chill in her voice. “She wrote of a deal to become human. Who else would have that kind of magic?”

“That deal wasn’t one of mine,” he assures her. “That business with the sea witch was done long before her sisters dealt with me.”

“Sea witch?” Belle still looks a tad bit skeptical, but he finds he is not in the mood to enlighten her further at the moment.

“Aren’t we getting a little off the subject?” he asks instead. “I presume she wished to become human for looooove, if the story is so romantic?”

“Yes,” Belle sighs, rolling her eyes at him and perching herself on the edge of the table. “She fell in love with a handsome prince and wanted to stay with him forever, so she made this deal that she was very vague about… something about giving up her voice and having three days to make her prince fall in love with her. It was all a bit confusing to be honest, but I managed to piece that together at least. She spent most of the time going on about his eyes and how wonderful it was to be with him, to walk beside him, how thrilling it was to be part of his world.”

It is Rumplestiltskin’s turn to roll his eyes. “Sounds fascinating,” he drawls.

“Her thoughts were sort of all over the place,” she admits, “and I got the idea that keeping a journal was new to her - maybe she tried it because she couldn’t talk? Come to think of it, how she’d have access to your squid ink in the prince’s palace if it’s so hard to come by is a bit of a mystery.” She shakes her head and goes on. “Anyway, it’s not that the writing itself is so compelling, but her feelings come across so strongly, and she stops on such a sad note. I’ve always thought of love as a mystery, but to leave everything just hanging with no resolution…” Belle is warming to her subject matter now, and Rumplestiltskin could care less about the mermaid’s tale - he knows how it ends, after all - but the fire in her voice and those eyes flashing with her excitement are enough to hold his full attention. “She’s just so passionate about her love and it’s so tragic when she loses hope… I wish I knew how it all ends!” She throws up her hands, then drops them into her lap in obvious frustration and he watches her with his own hands steepled beneath his chin.

“You know,” he begins, “I do hear rumors here and there. Why don’t you tell me where she leaves off, and I might be able to supply a few additional details.”

“Really?” She brightens and leans toward him at that, and he would gladly tell her every tale he knows in exchange for that smile. “Well, she believed they were getting along fine. He spent the second day showing her about his village and they ended up in the middle of a secluded lagoon at dusk.” His lovely little maid pauses here with a wistful sigh. “She made it sound so lush and magical… the perfume of the flowers along the bank, fireflies twinkling around the cozy little boat they went out in, gazing into his eyes… she was certain he was about to kiss her when something shifted.” Another sigh, the gentle curve of pretty lips tugged down in disappointment. “Then the boat tipped, and the moment was gone. She woke up the next morning to news that her prince was to be married that very day…to another woman. She was heartbroken, wrote that she was going back to the sea where she belonged, and that’s where it ends.” Belle feels the girl’s sadness, he can hear it in her voice.

“You hope for a happy ending, of course.” He is careful to keep the note of mocking from his voice, unwilling to upset her any more than the diary already has.

She nods. “She was so desperately in love.”

“And if the young mermaid’s tale ends with heartbreak, would you still wish to know the outcome?”

“Does it?” Her distress is plain as she leans closer, her soft features tightening into a mask of concern and strained hope. “Please tell me.”

Rumplestiltskin heaves a dramatic sigh. “There is much to the tale that your young author failed to share. It’s no short work to finish it, and I have business to attend to this morning.” Her disappointment is obvious, shoulders slumping and chest heaving with the beginnings of a resigned huff. “I’ll tell you what… when I return, I’ll supply the missing details of your mermaid’s tale, hmm?”

Belle thinks to object to the wait, but she knows that her master is nothing if not a showman and understands that convincing him to rush a story that he can draw out into an elaborate performance is an impossible task. She nods her assent, afraid that she would be unable to mask the annoyance in her tone if she tries to speak, and he rises from his seat at the head of the imposing table and moves away from her.

“Curiosity can be a powerful thing, little maid.” He can’t resist turning back with a taunting giggle. “Perhaps that diary held a bit of danger for you after all.” He arches a challenging eyebrow, then turns and strides from the room.

Rumplestiltskin remains absent for most of the day, returning in the late afternoon to a very impatient caretaker. She does her best to hide it, knowing that it will only encourage him to draw this out all the more, but she is all but vibrating with anticipation. She is reading by the fire, and he’s never seen her turn her attention from a book so quickly. He does his best to bite back a wicked grin as she jumps to her feet and waves a hand at her, indicating the spot she’s just vacated.

“Don’t get up on my account,” he twitters. “Just passing through, no time for tea.”

“But…” Belle starts to stammer out an objection, but he cuts her off.

“Patience, my eager little maid… I haven’t forgotten my promise.”

He sweeps past her, leaving her staring after him as she drops back down next to her abandoned book.

When he makes his way back to the Great Hall, she looks up with the same eager haste but does not rise from her place by the fire. He is the tiniest bit disappointed, but contents himself with watching her struggle to hold her impatience in check.

“Well don’t just sit there, little maid,” he twitters. “Do you want to hear your tale or no?”

He offers up a gleeful giggle as she heaves an exasperated sigh and rolls her eyes at him.

“You know very well I want to hear it, Rumplestiltskin. You’ve been stalling all day just to taunt me.”

He places a hand over his heart and affects a wounded expression. “Taunt you? Surely you don’t believe I have nothing better to do with my day than toy with my caretaker?”

She simply rolls her eyes once more, rising and coming to stand in front of him.

“Then you’ll tell me the rest of the story now?”

“Of course.” He draws in a breath and opens his mouth as if to speak but then shuts it again without a word, casting his glance about the room. He has to work to hide the grin that threatens at the sight of Belle planting her hands on her hips in obvious annoyance and fixing him with a stare that clearly indicates she is losing her patience. “This won’t do,” he announces, and allows himself a delighted giggle when she rolls her eyes yet again.

Thick purple smoke envelops them both with a flick of his wrist, and Belle’s eyes widen in surprise to find herself seated across from her master in a tiny rowboat as it clears. They are floating in a perfumed lagoon just like she had imagined from the mermaid’s diary, the one she’d described to him just that morning. She arches a quizzical brow, and he looks sheepish for just a moment before fluttering a hand about in a careless gesture at their surroundings.

“It’s important to set the scene when telling an elaborate tale, little maid.”

A knowing smile curls along her lips as she ducks her head, blushing prettily and looking up at him from beneath her lashes. He finds that he has to remind himself to breathe, staring at her with what must surely be a ridiculous smile.

“Well?” she asks softly. His brow furrows in confusion as his lovely maid leans forward, resting a hand upon his knee. “You promised me a story, Rumplestiltskin.”

 

__

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
